The Patience Game
by PlainSimpleGarak
Summary: A series set after the events of the original 1990 movie with a focus on developing the characters through the action. The turtles set out to investigate a mysterious group hiding a biological menace. Ch5 is a Don standalone. In progress, reviews welcome
1. The Patience Game

**Author's Notes**:

This story is a "fresh start" fiction in that I am not trying to closely follow any one version of the Ninja Turtles story. I hope to expand this introduction into an ongoing story, letting the turtles develop as the story takes them.

It is set shortly after the Turtles first major confrontation with Shredder and the foot. The one important plot point I am holding to in this fiction is that it was Raphael (like the original movie) beaten by the Foot and thrown through a window not Leonardo (like the 2003 cartoon and comics). I got the idea for this fic because I was watching the 1987 cartoon, thinking about how different the Turtles' personalities were in that happy go lucky series. I love the movies and the comics; but I started thinking 'what if someone played around a little and took elements of the Turtles' personalities from every series? A bit of this and a bit of that.

Reviews of any kind are requested and appreciated, thank you very much for reading.

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UPDATE: The title of the series is changed because I'm a doofus. This is my first fanfic and I don't know how to format it the way I want yet. Some minor corrections to grammar and my bad typing are also up. Many thanks to the reviewers who were kind enough to point out the confusing bits! I changed the rating from K+ to T (cautionary) because as the action increases the violence will increase; but so far everything is still K+

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Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, and I don't claim to. But I own a computer and a copy of Microsoft Word. Mwahaha!

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Introduction: Ensemble: "The Patience Game"

If the game he was currently playing were true to its name, Donatello would have been a grandmaster. But it was a game, a training exercise to be exact, and it had no more relation to actual patience than Grand Turismo gave you real experience driving a car. He could hear Leonardo move behind him, but his elder brother stayed steadily out of his field of view. Even though some of his brothers had the flexibility or the balance to be able to take in most of the room while standing on one foot, Donatello always needed to concentrate in order to keep himself balanced and focused.

The premise of the game was simple: strike the first blow, unarmed. But they had outgrown the challenge of simply hitting each other when they were ten. The patience game was designed to make a very simple goal far more difficult. One brother was selected to be the defender, the others would attack one at a time; but the defender had to keep balanced on one foot, the other leg and both arms raised in ready position. You couldn't bulrush the defender, at least not until someone (usually Raphael) decided that they had enough of this game and wanted to end the match prematurely. The point was to score a clean hit if you were attacking without getting tagged by the defender; while the defender tried to score a hit without losing his balance.

If it was just about waiting for the correct time to strike, the purple clad turtle would have taken his brothers to the cleaners, but he found balance, particularly without his weapon difficult, and the longer one waited to strike the more and more his muscles would ache from keeping one leg cocked to kick. In order to ignore the ache, Donatello usually let his mind drift to whatever he was working on in his lab; right now it was disassembling an alternative fuel engine to see if he could come up with a more efficient way to propel their van, but he was having trouble…

The crack that sounded in his ears didn't hurt, but the sound shook him from his reverie. He could feel the light sting where the back of Leonardo's hand had thumped him right behind the ear, and he let out a soft sigh.

"What invention were you thinking of this time?" His elder brother chuckled.

Don felt his shoulders sag a bit as he stretched. "How did you know…"

"Maybe 'cause your eyes drift off to the side when you stop concentrating on where Leo is." Raphael called from the side

Donatello opened his mouth to protest, but found that he couldn't deny it. Giving a soft sigh, he bowed his head slightly towards Leonardo and relinquished the center position. Leo folded his arms into a meditative stance, which made him look curiously like a giant praying mantis, though a mantis that was ready to kick you at any given moment. Behind him Raphael and Michelangelo eyed one another and played a quick game of rock-paper-scissors, which ended up in a scissors for Mikey, a rock for Raph and a muttered curse from the winner. Leo was the best player of this particular game overall and being the first one to attack him almost always meant getting nailed by a well timed kick.

Raphael grit his teeth and flexed his fingers, watching the calm settled form of his eldest brother. Before he stepped on the mat he shifted his balance back and forth from flat footed to the balls of his feet. He disliked being the attacker in this game; his own personal style allowed for him to take the first hit in order to get in close and shut his opponent down but in this game the first hit ended the attack. In his less stubborn moods he admitted to himself that frustration he felt playing this game was a great teaching tool, helping him judge timing but he would never say that out loud to his brothers. He slowly started to circle Leo like a vulture.

Leo smiled to himself, though the edges of his mouth did not curl. He could always tell his brothers by their footfalls. Raphael's steps were heavy, no matter how much he adjusted his footwork, and he usually paused slightly before he struck. The eldest brother waited, listening to the mat make the faintest crunching sound with every step. Raphael struck quickly and straightforward almost every time, the trick was to pre-empt the charge. The crunches stopped for a second and Leo could feel the faintest shift in the air as his brother leapt.

One green and blue clad leg snapped out, and Raph grimaced, seeing the kick coming. He landed, instinctively raising one leg to catch the kick and let it rebound off the outer part of his upper leg where it wouldn't hurt forgetting that the point of the game was to, in fact, avoid being kicked. Leo's foot hit home, snapping across the block and making a cracking sound as they hit. The sound was impressive even though neither one hit anything hard enough to hurt. The red-clad turtle made a humphing sound, unwilling to admit that a block should disqualify him and he leaned forward, reaching out to rap Leo against the back of the neck.

"You know that's against the rules, Raph." Leo chided in a somewhat light voice, the amusement slightly evident though he still did not smile. Raphael frowned and stood out of his fighting stance, putting one hand on his hip. Leo could hear the protest rising to his brother's throat and he decided to cut him off, snapping a light kick into his chest before he could speak. "You're out at first strike."

Raphael coughed slightly as the rap knocked a gust of air from his lungs, and stood there. He was toying with the idea of simply kicking out the one leg his leader was standing on, but decided that he didn't feel that petty this afternoon. But he wasn't going to let it drop without offering his two cents worth. "I suppose that entirely depends on how you define 'strike'" the tone of his voice insinuating that the first hit was ineffective at best.

"I define it as you getting hit." Leo replied evenly. "But if you want to go again, be my guest."

Raphael leveled his brown eyes at the eldest brother. In truth winning the game wasn't what hung on his stubborn mind, it was the irritation that no matter what happened Leo had to have the last word. He gave another soft humph and replied in an equally even tone; "How about I let Mikey knock you down?"

Leonardo suppressed a chuckle, still keeping his features carefully neutral. He was faintly surprised that Raph's last quip wasn't an invitation to a fight, but ever since their catastrophic confrontation with the Foot clan in April's apartment his hotheaded brother had been slightly mellower and more unreadable. Then again Michelangelo wasn't known for his patience or focus. "Then how about it."

The red clad turtle stepped back, watching with the faintest hint of a grin, letting his youngest brother step forward. Despite the set up of the game seeming to be stacked against the orange ninja, Leonardo often forgot that it was Mikey who had, in fact, created it. Though back then it didn't have a name. Raphael usually just called it 'damn you Mikey, stop being a brat!'

It grew out of one of Master Splinter's punishments, when the old rat decided that his students needed a more directly useful punishment than flips. He called it focus kicking, making his students go through each movement in a sidekick or a roundhouse in a very slow, controlled manner. As a punishment he made his sons hold each position for a particular count – ten seconds, maybe thirty or a minute. It was his standard penance for impatience and any temperamental outburst, and the usual target was Raphael. While his brothers never had to endure more than thirty seconds per position, Raph's record was a full five minutes of standing in each position, each leg, while Master Splinter waited until his anger abated.

When he was younger Raphael hated this particular exercise and if he could escape Splinter's watchful gaze he would have. Though one evening when he was feeling particularly contrary it struck him that the only way he could get out the punishment was to enjoy it. He started practicing his balance at night before he went to bed, first out of a stubborn drive to one up his brothers and his master but eventually he found he enjoyed the physical challenge of working through the ache and tension of the kick until it was comfortable. Slowly he became so good he started to show off during training when the kicks were merely an exercise; and that's when Mikey took notice.

The youngest turtle found it somewhat amusing that his brother could go from bitterly complaining about his punishment to enjoying it; and he figured it would be fun to challenge Raph while he was showing off. So he started to sneak up behind him and tag him in the back of the head. Raph's immediate response was to kick him; and Mikey solved this by finding sneakier and faster ways to tag his brother back, until it evolved from a testy battle of one-upsmanship into a full-fledged game. And occasionally the two brothers who founded it enjoyed challenging themselves to play while Leo and Don were away (or at least absorbed in their own endeavors). In that time Michelangelo had learned some fairly crafty tricks while attacking.

The red clad turtle allowed himself a small smile as the game continued, fully expecting Leonardo to eat his words.

The eldest brother centered himself, concentrating on his balance while he heard Michelangelo's feet scuffle across the floor. His youngest brother was the least accurate in his strikes; but he was also the least predictable. Combined with an overflow of energy and a canny sense of dodge honed by avoiding any retaliation his brothers decided to dish out in response to his pranks it made him a better fighter than most of his brothers gave him credit for. At this moment Leonardo was trying to figure out where Mikey was going; he could hear his footsteps behind his back but unlike Raph or Donnie, they were light and constantly in motion, as if he was dancing. He could hear the mat creak just behind his left ear and he clenched his teeth together, snapping a back-kick to the left. It flung past where Mike had stepped and into the air, the blue clad turtle struggling to regain his balance when he didn't strike his intended target.

To the side he could head Donatello chuckle lightly, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Mikey hop backwards with a spring in his step, grinning. Leo sucked in a long even breath, hopping from one foot to the other until he felt centered again, but it wasn't long enough. Light green footsteps hopped from one side of the room to another and when Leo looked up he saw an orange bandana clad face grinning at him as a ridgehand punch snaked around the side of his head. Leo nearly bit his tongue and a startled breath escaped him. He flexed his anchor foot, using it as a launch point and jumped backwards, sending out a front kick in response. Though between jumping away, twisting sideways to dodge the blow and trying to kick he ended up flailing his front kick into a soggy imitation of a strike. It took every ounce of concentration he had to land on one foot and stay there.

"Missed me by a mile!" Michelangelo grinned, his voice light and perky.

"That was a good save, though." Donatello remarked from the sidelines, giving a nod to his eldest brother.

"Dude, with moves like that you could do well on extreme skateboarding!" Mikey grinned, starting to circle his brother.

"Yeah, but who would sponsor him? Turtle wax?" The red-clad brother remarked dryly from the other side of the room.

"Shut up, Raph." Leo groused, frowning. All the chatter was making it harder for him to concentrate on where Mike might be coming from, and this time he was determined to strike first.

Again the light, almost bubbling energy of the youngest turtle's movements were like trying to sort out a Morse code signal in a hailstorm, but this time Leonardo had practice. And as they say: the third time's the charm. If he listened hard enough, even when Mike was out of his vision he could start to picture where the younger turtle was centered, somewhere in the middle of the footsteps. Leonardo let his shoulders relax, the same posture as Donatello assumed when he wasn't really paying attention but the elder turtle was far from distracted. He waited, patiently, until he heard the footsteps come close to his right side.

Leaning slight he snapped a roundhouse kick to the right, and Mikey's eyes widened. Sucking in a breath he changed from aggressive to defensive mode in an instant, leaning backwards with a jump. His chest ended up just inches away from Leo's swinging foot. The blue clad turtle spun slightly, hopping and trying to maintain his balance while Mike wobbled his arms, trying to do the same. Leo stayed upright; Mike gave in and rolled downwards from his left shoulder, across to his right and back up onto his feet in one smooth movement. "Man, I'm glad I don't have to stay on one foot." He remarked as he regained his feet.

"Maybe I should make you practice that more often." Leo countered, wobbling slightly. His legs were starting to ache.

"I thought we were practicing."

Even though his elder brother couldn't see him, Leo could hear the grin in Mikey's voice. He didn't reply back, but gave a soft sigh, trying to regain his focus once again. This time Mike was flickering in and out of his kick range, like a cat testing the range of a pitbull's leash. Occasionally Leo would snap a light punch or kick out towards Mike, but no good opportunities to actually hit him. He gave a second sigh when the orange clad turtle disappeared behind his field of vision once again. He straightened and tensed his legs a little, determined to win.

"Whoah, Dude, what's that?!" Mike's voice was startled and full of wonder.

"Huh?!" Leo snapped his head to the side, frantically looking for what might be there, but the only thing he saw was Raphael. He was about to furrow his brow and ask what was going on when he felt his youngest brothers foot connect solidly with his plastron.

"Got you!" Michelangelo's voice was positively gleeful.

Leonardo sighed, slowly putting his foot down and stretching his legs. "You gave a false alarm, Mike. That isn't fair."

"Sure it's fair." Raphael cast his opinion from the edge of the mat. "You're just sore because you fell for it."

"Deception isn't the way of honor." Leonardo argued lightly, swinging his arms back and forth to stretch them.

"Technically, Leo, he didn't lie. There was something there…" Donatello added, thoughtfully.

"Yeah! Raph was there! He's something!" Mike was grinning.

Leonardo shook his head. "But what if there had been an actual emergency. You can't cry wolf just to win at a game."

"Ah, but distraction is a part of every confrontation you face, my son." Master Splinter's voice lilted from the doorway, his dark eyes shining steadily at them. "You must learn how to tell what is important and what exists only to lure your senses away."

"And how can I tell that?" the blue clad turtle asked in an open, searching tone.

"Have you not just had that lesson, my son?" Splinter's voice was stern, but laced with a gentle current of amusement.

Slowly Leonardo nodded. "Yes, Master." He gave a respectful nod to his youngest brother and relinquished the center spot.

Mike took up his one footed stance and grinned again. "Besides, if it's really something there I'll tell you what it is, even if that just 'whoah dude, look… a thing!'"

"How vividly descriptive, Mikey." Raphael called from the sidelines. "Are you gonna yak or are we gonna play?"

The youngest turtle grinned in an imitation of a MTV voiceover. "Bring it on!"


	2. Not Your Ordinary Dog

Chapter 1: Ensemble: "Not Your Ordinary Dog"

April O'Neil rolled out of bed and into her slippers, stretching slightly. It was the first day in weeks that she had the time to sleep in and it felt good. The warm, deep golden rays of the late morning sun spreading across her bed made her feel even better. She smiled as she threw a robe around her shoulders and strolled off to the bathroom. Hanging a fresh towel just outside the shower, she turned it on to let the water get warm and pulled her toothbrush from the cup. Reaching to turn the water on in the sink, her eyes widened and she yelped.

"Casey!!" Shaking her toothbrush in the air like it was a club, she grimaced. The inside of the sink was covered in small chunks of coarse dark hair that had stuck to the sides and clotted up the drain, mixed with the remnants of shaving cream, toothpaste and spit. "Casey Jones…" she repeated in a growl as if he could hear her, but she knew he was downstairs in the antique store. Turning back to the sink she wrinkled her nose and screwed up her face in a definitive 'eww' expression before tromping off to go brush her teeth in the kitchen.

Several minutes and one shower later she paced about her living room, toweling her hair off, and debating on exactly how angry she should look when she got downstairs. At the very least she would have that scruffy vigilante march up here and clean the sink out; though she was debating upping the ante and having him take her out to dinner as well. Placing a hand to her forehead and pushing the towel away she shook herself a little. "I did not just seriously plan telling that Neanderthal to take me out on a dinner date" she muttered to herself. Folding the towel and tossing it into the laundry basket she took in a deep breath and started heading downstairs. The bell hooked to the dirty little office door gave a hollow ringing sound as she stepped through, looking around for Casey.

"Excuse me, miss, but do you work here?" The question slapped April upside the head and she blinked a little. Turning to look at the store she found a small line of older ladies holding a few special treasures in their hands, poking around curiously for a cashier. April grit her teeth.

"I own this store, can I help you?" Despite her growing irritation she put on a friendly smile for her customers.

One lady with a poodle perm gave a small nod. "We were looking for the cashier. We would like to purchase some furniture."

April gave a small laugh and started to jog towards the counter. "Sure, let me help you right away." She took another look around, inwardly grimacing. No sign of Casey anywhere and the bathroom door was even open. She shook her head and started ringing up the customer's purchases. She even kept a merry smile plastered on her face until the last lady walked out and the door clicked shut behind her. April spun, looking up at the ceiling and yelled at the top of her lung, "CASEY JONES?! Where the hell are you?!" When posing her question into the air didn't seem to work she grumbled and decided to pose her question through the airwaves. She yanked out her cell phone and hit the speed dial for his number, her fingers tapping impatiently across the counter.

"Heya, Babe!" His voice was irritatingly bright.

"Casey Jones, where the hell are you?" she repeated in tense dry tones.

"Whoah, calm down, I'm on the roof." He sounded as if everyone on earth went to the roof in the middle of his or her job.

"The roof, uh huh. How… useful." She snapped back, walking over to the door and flipping the sign from open to closed.

"Toots, I stayed in that shop all morning and the only thing I sold was a speck of spilled Pepsi to a fly."

"That's funny, there was a line down here when I came. And don't call me toots." She locked the door and whirled to go climb the back stairs.

"Figures. Just figures. Now don't get mad at me Too-- err, Sweetie" April cut him off with an exasperated growl and he sighed over the phone. "Babe?" Another annoyed little growl. "Ok, Hun then." He paused and when he didn't get shut down he seemed to grin in his voice and continue, "You won't believe what's going on up here."

"It had better be Earth-shattering…" April countered with a tone that could have sent a rampaging pit bull back to cowering in a doghouse. Casey must have caught it because his next words were cautious.

"Well it's certainly unusual."

"It had better be damn unusual, or I'll…" she countered hotly into the phone before Casey cut her off.

"Or you'll what Hun?" His voice was startling sweet, good-natured even. It made April pause in the middle of the stairwell. Truth be told she wasn't nearly as angry as she wanted to appear; but venting at him was good medicine. She had to think for a bit before she came up with a good answer to her threat.

"Or I might just kick you off the rooftop." Her voice has lost the angry edge, and now just sounded competitive.

He literally chuckled back at her. "I would love to see you try… Toots."

April shook her head and clicked her phone shut. "I might just kick you in the shin if you don't shut up." She muttered to herself as she climbed the last few stairs. Throwing open the metal door leading up to the roof, the smell of tar and smog hit her lungs hard and she coughed a little before she could get her admonition out. "Why are you up here when you're supposed to be running the shop for me?"

Casey was leaning over the edge of the roof, squinting into a pair of binoculars and he waved a hand behind his back at her. "Shhh! Come here and look at this."

The redhead put her hands on her hips and walked forward like a stubborn horse unwilling to take a bridle. "What am I supposed to be looking it?" Casey didn't say anything, but he straightened and passed her the binoculars by pressing them into her stomach. She grabbed them, rolling her eyes, and raised them to her face.

"Over there, by the construction site." He pointed as April leaned down over the side, adjusting the focus. In a matter of seconds her angry glower faded to a look of both curiosity and surprise.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"Beats me, but they ain't no dogcatchers." He shrugged, cracking his knuckles.

April turned, watching his stretch a little, having a canny idea of what gears were turning behind his thick skull. "Don't you even think of going down there."

"Why not?" He looked almost pouty. "They're obviously up to no good."

"No good is putting it lightly, Casey. It's over a dozen people armed up like big game hunters. In broad daylight." Her tone was stern, almost motherly.

"So?" the tall man shrugged. "They're also wearing fake animal control jumpsuits in a construction site. That tells me there's something fishy going on."

"I'm not arguing that something fishy is going on!" She gave an exasperated little sigh. "I'm saying that it's dangerous to go down there right now. You could get overpowered, shot and caught by the cops."

Casey stopped halfway between the roof edge and the door, perking a curious brow at April. "Are you worried about me?"

She folded her arms across her chest, her cheeks tinting pink. "No. But it would be a pity to lose you before I make you clean out my sink."

"Ah, you'll miss the slave labor." He gave her a catty grin.

April gave a short huff. "If you're going to go, wait and let me call the guys first."

He grinned, heading back towards the edge of the roof. "You changed the subject. You really are worried!"

She shook her head, letting her mouth form into a thin flat line. Flipping open the phone, she hit Donatello's speed dial and tossed the cell to Casey. "Here. You've been watching this all morning, you can tell them what's going on."

"Fine… fine." He caught it and juggled the phone from hand to hand as Donnie's voice picked up on the other end.

"April, what's up?" Donatello sounded upbeat but out of breath.

"Um, we got something of a problem going on here." Casey's deep voice grumbled through the phone.

"Are you OK, April? You sound really hoarse." Donatello's voice was curious, sober. From behind him Mikey's voice called out, "Dude, I think it's Casey." In the background he could hear some playful arguing and Raphael's voice clearly grouse "They're spending an awful lot of time together." Casey groaned a little inwardly.

As Casey started to explain what he had found through his rooftop voyeurism April picked the binoculars back up, scanning the construction site. Something about the odd set up made her intensely curious; more so because she had a much better scientific background than Casey did. While he just saw men with big guns, she saw men armed with top of the line tranquilizer guns, carrying an awful lot of extremely expensive scientific equipment out of the back of a beat up old van. It didn't add up in a way that made April's stomach turn slightly.

"No, the cops aren't coming because there's a high fence around the entire site. I doubt anyone can see what's going on unless they're some crazy voyeur on a rooftop." Casey was saying.

Over the phone Donnie chuckled. "That doesn't say much for your roof-time habits, Casey."

Taking the phone from his ear and turning it so he could speak directly at the receiver the tall vigilante grumbled, "Hey, what I do is a job. I have a duty to keep watch."

"Shut up…" April's voice was unusually sharp, and it made Casey nearly drop the phone. "I can see something through the windows." She squinted, focusing the binoculars on a finished part of the lot's foundation. Casey whispered an explanation over the phone and walked up behind her.

"What's going on?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Take a look." She held the binoculars in place for him as he leaned over the rail.

Casey gave a low whistle. "That's not normal."

"What do you see?" Over the phone Donatello's voice was practically crawling with anticipation. April took the phone from Casey as he grabbed the binoculars with his mouth open.

"Donnie… there's some sort of creature in the building. And it's not any animal I have ever seen in any biology book. It looks like some sort of giant weasel…with scales." She bit her lip slightly, realizing just how completely far fetched that sounded. Then again she was telling it to a giant bo staff wielding turtle.

"And the people? What are they doing?" Don asked. From the jarring sound of his voice he was running as he spoke.

"They're shooting it. Or at least shooting at it. It looks like they're trying to contain it." She squinted, but without the binoculars all she could see was the blur of the fence and the van. "And I don't think it's working."


	3. Things We May Find

Chapter 2: Ensemble: "Things We May Find"

The walls of the sewer literally shuddered as Leonardo looked up from the manhole at the top of the ladder.

"What's going on up there, Leo?" Mikey's blue eyes looked up as he shifted from foot to foot. Sunlight streamed down in a hazy band from the crack to the surface and Leo shook his head a little.

"Two vans, and at least two dozen armed men. No sign of what April saw…" the eldest replied, cautiously."

"No sign?" Raphael interjected. "The fact that the ground is vibrating isn't a sign?"

Leonardo gave a strict look from the top of the ladder. "Raph, we don't know what's causing that."

"Yeah, but it's not like we live in the middle of earthquake country, Leo." The red clad terrapin snapped back. "What are you waiting for?"

"It's the middle of broad daylight, Raph, and I'm not going to do anything that's going to get us seen…or captured."

"Yeah, well we might as well do-" Raphael didn't get to finish his thought. Donatello stuck his head around the corner, still holding the cell phone in one hand and waving them to come over with the other.

"Guys, I think you should come check this out." He called, with the a slight edge of 'and perhaps you should give your argument a rest' running through the words.

"What's over there?" Leonardo called back, dropping down the ladder. Mikey was already way ahead of him, running off to where Donatello was pointing.

"Whoah, dude… total basement failure…" the youngest brother quipped, poking his head around a sewer junction. Large chunks of rubble and concrete littered the path, but light still filtered it's way through the cracks. As Raphael and Leonardo caught up, Donatello flagged them all off to one of the far corners. Slipping between a metal support plate of the sewer and a large chunk of foundation, he slowly poked his head up through one of the large cracks in the battered and sunken basement.

"We can get into this building's basement through here…" Don whispered

"What's inside?" Leo asked, straining to see through the chunks of concrete.

"Nothing's in the basement, but I can hear the sounds of a large animal above it. It could be what April saw." Don slipped the cell phone away and looked back at Leo. When his elder brother gave him a nod, he unstrapped his bo, handing it to Mikey before slithering up through the slim cracked passage. When he climbed out, he took a minute to sink back into the shadows, looking around before he reached down to grab his staff again. "It's all clear in the basement." He whispered back.

Less than a minute later all three brothers were standing beside him, and Donatello was checking out the debris scattered all around the large concrete walled room. It looked like something had blown up in here: black burn marks scarred the walls, and in the center of the room there was a dip in the floor where part of the concrete had melted and turned glassy. But whatever had been in here to cause such a thing had been meticulously moved; cleaned. It even looked like the floor was swept and mopped. The only thing out of place was the structural damage on the east end. It made the technically minded turtle's brow furrow with confusion.

While Don was puzzling out what might have been down here, Leonardo was far busier trying to take in his surroundings. His head snapped forward as the sharp, piercing shriek of an enraged animal cut through the air. Leo frowned, the sound was bitter and unlike any animal he had ever heard before, and his expression deepened as he could hear it coming closer overhead.

Mike tapped his older brother on the shoulder; his blue eyes were flickering between Leo's face and the ceiling. "It'll hold, right?"

"It should." Leo reassured him, but he kept his eyes lingering upwards just in case. After the floor in April's first apartment collapsed in on them he wasn't the most trustful turtle when it came to ceilings. He beckoned Mike to follow him as he headed towards the outer walls, just in case. "Come on, lets see if we can find a stairwell."

As Leo and Mike headed towards one of the corners, the walls shook lightly again. The mammalian scream ripped through the building again, far closer. "You know…" Raph's dry voice came from the opposite end of the building, "I don't think we should be looking for a stairwell. I think we should be looking for an elevator shaft."

Leo turned, shaking his head at his younger brother, as if expecting an inappropriate punch line. "Raph, I highly doubt there would be a working elevator in a skeleton of a building." He started, seriously.

The red turtle eyed him testily. "I don't even think there's an elevator in this place, Leo. But where there's a big open hole for something to fall down into…" his train of thought was interrupted by a third scream, and the sound of claws fighting a losing battle as they scraped down steel and concrete. There was a distinctive 'thud' in a side alcove, and slowly a strange, furred animal started to rouse itself from its shock. "Why don't I ever keep my big mouth shut?" Raphael muttered to himself as Leo snapped his head around. Footsteps were coming down the stairwell, and he could barely hear voices shouting militaristic orders.

"Everybody take cover, now!" Leo's voice was sharp and low. The brothers scattered to the dark corners of the room as the door was flung open. Six broad shouldered men filed through, with shotgun-like weapons raised to the ready. At the back of each of the guns sat a small tank of compressed air, and from the quick glimpse Donatello got from the equipment on their belts, each hunter probably had several thousand dollars worth of electronics on his person.

The leader gestured for his men to fan out, all eyes trained on the elevator shaft alcove. The shortest of them turned from his leader and back to the wall, speaking in a high reedy voice. "I don't think the fall killed it."

"Good." The leader spoke in a deep gravelly rumble. "We were ordered to return it alive if at all possible. A lot of time and money was invested into this thing, and it's not even halfway finished."

"I'm not seeing it move, Sir." One of the men in the back called. The leader narrowed his eyes and pulled a maglight from his belt. With a hollow click he shot stream of white light into the alcove. Pinned against the wall two very wide eyes reflected back and the creature writhed a bit and hissed.

Donatello was the closest and he ended up having to bite his lip to prevent himself for making a sound. He was surprised at what he saw, from April's rather frantic description he was expecting something the size of an elephant, or at least a horse. This thing was slightly larger than a Saint Bernard, though it was longer and leaner. It had a ratty, weasel-like face and paws, but the fur was peeled back in places, exposing stiff browning scales. Each foot ended in three vicious hooked claws, and when it hissed the mouth was filled with jagged fangs. Still, through the aggressive growling Donnie could hear the basic instinctual cry of a wounded creature. And when he leaned forward far enough to catch its face, he could see nothing but confusion and terror in its eyes.

The leader kept his light trained forward while his point main aimed his weapon. They may not have been ninjas, but they were accurate marksmen. He fired twice, two darts flying from his rifle and sticking solidly in the creature's chest. It reared up giving another high-pitched screech, flecks of spittle forming at the edges of its mouth. Slowly it pawed at the ground, and tried to run out of the alcove; stumbling like a drunken raccoon. It only made it a few feet into the room before it collapsed, moaning and huffing on the concrete floor. The man with the maglight flicked it off and turned towards two of his men. "Stay here and cover that. We're getting containment." He beckoned the other three to follow him, pulling out a radio and talking as he went. "Yes Sir, we have experiment 22 contained. Alive Sir. Yes Sir."

A wash of silence fell over the basement as the majority of the hunters cleared out. In his corner Raphael frowned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. On the other side of the room he could see Donatello move silently over until he stood beside Leonardo.

"Somehow I don't think the creature we came to check out is the one we should be concerned about." Don was whispering to Leo as the two guards who were left behind prodded and kicked the moaning animal hybrid.

"I'm not sure we should get involved in this…" Leo started, frowning as he saw Don's intense brown eyes watching him.

"Leo, this isn't natural. And from what I overheard this isn't the first experimental creature they have created nor is it the last. I think that merits our attention." He murmured in a serious, penetrating tone.

After a second or two of thought the eldest brother gave a nod of agreement. "All right, then how do you think we should proceed?"

Donatello gave a soft shrug. "If I can get close to the creature I can take a blood sample and perhaps analyze what's been done to it. Better yet would be getting into one of those vans and getting access to their computer for a little while."

"If you want to get close then we'll have to do something with those guards." Leo murmured, debating his next decision. He looked back up, eyes fixed on the remaining two guards. "Can you make a distraction for me?"

"Sure." Donatello started, a look of confusion on his face.

"Get ready." Leo ducked down and disappeared behind a chunk of concrete. He caught Donnie's attention over on the other corner of the wall after a few seconds.

Donatello straightened up, his head popping out of the shadows and he cleared his throat. Giving his best impersonation of those late night cop shows his brothers would watch when the TV got left on too late he called out, "Hey! What are you guys doing over there?!"

In the shadows Don could see Michelangelo wrinkle his nose in confusion; wondering why in the hell Don would say something like that. But the two guards did exactly what Donatello wanted them to do: they both turned towards him, with their mouths open and a muttered 'huh?' The shorter of the two fumbled to raise his gun when the back of his head met with the business end of Leo's foot. The blue clad turtle was descending from his leap, bringing one guard down with an arm and letting his weight drive the other one to his knees.

He turned, delivering a punch to the temple of the one he just clotheslined, before turning to the guard he had just kicked. The man was turning around, eyes wide in shock at the odd green turtle descending upon him, and he started to babble softly. He didn't have time to scream, though. Leo simply snaked his arm around the man's neck, pressing the nerves bundled right behind the ear, cutting off the blood to the brain for a few seconds until the second guard slumped forward, unconscious. He lowered both sleeping guards to the floor and looked around.

Raph leapt off of the ledge he had tucked himself away on and glared across the room. "And you call me unpredictable."

Leonardo stared back, unwilling to get into a fight this close to a large group of hostile people with guns. "Raph; Don needed a blood sample from the creature; and we just needed to knock these guys out quickly and quietly."

The younger turtle folded his arms across his plastron, but decided he didn't want to waste the breath. Besides, he found it amusing that Leo could break out with such random ferocity. Mikey picked his way over to Leo while Donatello pulled a small sample kit from his belt and knelt down beside the moaning creature. It growled softly as he reached a hand out to pet it and the brainy turtle snatched his hand back, causing Michelangelo to giggle slightly.

"What is it?" the youngest turtle finally asked.

"I don't know; but it's hurt and it probably doesn't deserve all this." Donatello murmured, pulling a syringe from the pack. He touched the animal again, carefully, only to find that despite it's bad attitude it barely had enough strength to stay conscious. Drool was draining from the side of its mouth into a puddle on the floor, and the sides of Don's eyes creased with pity. "I'm sorry," he murmured to it, pulling one of its paws out to draw the blood from.

"Sorry… dude, Donnie, it's a big nasty growling weasel-thing…" Mikey said quietly, unwilling to get close to it.

"Yeah. Basically it's a freak." Raphael quipped evenly.

If Donatello hadn't been so busy with drawing the blood he would have found a nasty remark to fling back at Raphael, but not having the chance Mikey bit his lower lip and gave a shrug. "Well, yeah, it's not normal," the youngest brother agreed.

"And so we should get rid of it." Raphael added. Leo frowned, giving him a warning look, which Raph ignored.

"Well, I don't want to get close to it." Mike admitted.

"It's no wonder then no one wants to get close to freaks like us." Raphael finished his point, his tone serious with just the slightest tinge of gentleness that he reserved for only Mikey. His little brother looked up, blue eyes wide as he stared at Raph.

"I… well," He sighed a little and turned away, not known what to respond, his feeling wounded by the way his brother had baited him. Leo glared, giving Raph the 'that wasn't very nice' stare. Raph shrugged back. It had been blunt, but in his mind it was a lesson that needed to be learned.

Donatello finished up, standing and pocketing the little vial of blood in his belt. Leo looked around, biting his lip, and pointed towards the elevator shaft. "They'll be coming back by the stairs. If we want to get up to the surface we should go that way. Once we get up there we'll see if we can find a way to get Don into one of the vans."

"Before we leave shouldn't we make it look like these two goons got attacked by the critter so they don't come lookin' for us?" Raph asked, lightly pushing one of the unconscious guards with his foot.

"They're coming and we need to go." Leo replied firmly, cocking his head towards the stairwell where voices could be heard approaching. He added a short glare daring Raphael to defy him, to which the red clad turtle simply shook his head.

"I'm glad everyone told me it was 'not listen to Raphael day today.'" He grumbled under his breath.

Walking past, Michelangelo caught his arm and tugged him slightly towards the elevator. The youngest turtle still had a tinge of hurt hanging around his face, but he put on a smile for Raph. "I listened to you." He murmured.

Raph paused, and smiled very slightly. Before he went he stooped and placed a hand on the head of the pained creature, as if giving a promise. Then he stood, following Michelangelo as they climbed for the surface.


	4. Cloak and Dagger

Chapter 3: Ensemble: "Cloak and Dagger"

Leonardo pulled himself evenly up to the ground floor, keeping low to the ground. Several large piles of girders were stacked in the center of the room, something the lead turtle was pleased to see. He crouched himself behind the nearest stack and waved his brothers up. As they gathered, Leo peered up from behind his hiding spot. A large group of the men in uniform were breaking off from the vans, rolling a massive cage into the construction yard. It made the blue clad turtle smile a little, because at this point the fewer guards they had to deal with, the better. Turning slightly he tapped Donatello on the shoulder. "Don, how long do you think you'll need?"

"It depends on if the system is encrypted or not." Donatello confessed. "Being that it's a traveling system in their vans, I would guess that encryption is minimal, but so is the value of the data available to them. Then again we could get in and find a set up that would make James Bond drool."

"James Bond would have the computer like in his shoes…" Michelangelo started before Leo waved a hand at him to shut up. The eldest brother carefully looked up above the stack while the youngest gave a sigh.

"It looks like there are only two guards left outside; but I cannot see if anyone is inside the van. The rest are heading to encage the creature." He paused and thought for a few seconds. "Raphael, Michelangelo… can you create a distraction?"

Raph blinked at Leo for a few seconds. "Is rain wet?"

"Don't get caught." Leo warned him back. Raphael rolled his eyes at him before tapping Michelangelo on the shoulder and the two brothers snuck off along the girders and towards the outside wall. Leonardo turned back to Donatello. "I'll be right behind you."

The younger turtle nodded, grateful for having someone following to watch his back and he started to carefully pick his way forward, getting as close as he could without being seen. The guards were alert, scanning the construction wall for signs of the outside public noticing them, hands up to their eyes to shield them from the afternoon sun. Donatello took in a slow, even breath, thinking back to the training game they played that morning, willing himself to keep his focus and not get distracted.

xXx

On the other side of the yard Raphael was pondering what the best course of action was, seeing as just jumping out and busting heads seemed to be exactly what was not called for. He could feel Mikey's head lean over his shoulder as they both watched the guards shift their focus around the construction site. "Stop breathing down my neck, Mike." He paused, and with a partial grin added, "And you really need a new brand of toothpaste."

"I do not." He grumbled lightly before looking up again. "So what's the plan, bro?"

Inwardly Raph smiled at the rebound. Very little seemed to phase his younger brother. "I'm thinking if we can get them over here we can take them out without anyone noticing. Got any distractions up your sleeve?"

Mikey rolled his eyes in an impression of the expression Raph gave to Leo. "Dude, distraction is my middle name."

Raphael glowered slightly and rapped Mike in the shoulder. "You don't have a last name, Mike, so how can you have a middle one?"

The orange clad turtle rubbed his shoulder and smiled a bit. "I just gave myself one. Michelangelo Distraction uhh… Turtle!"

His elder brother shook his head and started to look around, finally narrowing his eyes at a stack of PVC pipes that were all tied up in a bundle by a simple piece of rope. His eyes sparkled slightly and he turned again. "Mike, you got any shuriken on you?"

"Sure I do."

Raph gave him a sly little smile and pointed out the PVC. "Bet you can't hit that rope over there."

"Sure I can…"

xXx

Leonardo didn't say anything, but Donnie could read his expression like he read his scientific journals. He was wondering how long this distraction was going to take, and starting to seriously doubt his decision to send those two off alone on the first place. Leo stretched his legs and peered up over the girders, frowning. Flexing his fingers he started to stand up, before Don grabbed his elbow. "They'll come through." He reassured his elder. Leo settled back down, taking in a long sigh.

The sound was soft at first, one little plastic pipe bouncing down the stack. Then five, thirty, and finally over a hundred spilling out over the yard. The two guards snapped their heads towards the noise and the younger one muttered, "What the hell was that?"

The older one frowned, looked into the van, gave a nod to someone or something inside and then waved his companion towards the scattered pipes. "Lets go check it out." Both guards turned as if on military marching orders and made a beeline for the sound. Leo turned to look at Don and gave him the slightest nod, just enough to make them both stand and run for the van. Keeping down, they slid into a crouch just behind the rim of the wheel, and Leo picked his head up, listening cautiously. Inside he could hear a female voice talking on a headset.

"No, they're just checking out some disturbance. The cage is prepped, Sir." Her voice was bored and businesslike. Alongside the van Leo caught Donatello's eyes as he slowly rose to a standing position, flattened against the back end of the vehicle. As soon as Don gave the nod that he was ready Leo reached out and rapped the van with his two fingers curled, like a knock. "Hm. What's up?" The female technician asked in an irritated manner. She turned around; bits of scruffy red hair sticking up like a ragged sunburst around her headset. Leo pulled back, unseen. He could hear her get out of her chain and grumble. "Stupid control officers. What is up with you?" She started walked towards the end of the van, finally sticking her head out to look around. "What is going on?" she asked when she didn't see anyone in the immediate vicinity. She looked about ready to throw her hands up and swear, but she never quite got the chance. The eldest turtle lashed out with one hand, striking her on the side of the temple, and the other reached out to break her fall.

Catching the wiry technician he carried her back into the van, setting her in one of the open seats. "All yours, Don." He murmured as he worked.

Donatello climbed in directly behind him, picking up the headset and sitting down at the seat the technician just vacated. "How long before the guards come back?" he asked, motioning for Leo to go check what was going on behind him.

"I don't know. I need to see what Mike and Raph are doing." Once the girl was secure he leaned against the body of the van, carefully looking out. His eyes narrowed once he got there, and he sighed slightly. "Oh please tell me they aren't…"

xXx

Mikey looked up towards Raphael, spinning a piece of runaway PVC in his hands. "Now what?"

"When they come over we knock these bozos out." Raphael replied evenly. Mike grinned slightly and hefted up the 6-foot pipe. His older brother frowned and caught him by the elbow. "What do you think you're doing with that?"

"Improvised weapon." Michelangelo replied seriously. It was an odd enough statement that it made Raphael blink.

"Why?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Well, I was thinking that if they checked these guys out; and we used something present at the scene then they couldn't track it to, yanno… ninjas." He smiled slightly, keeping his blue eyes on the approaching guards.

"At the scene…?" Raph repeated slowly. "Mikey, have you been watching late night CSI again?"

The youngest turtle shrugged. "It's the only thing on that late until Donnie fixes the cable again." He popped his head up over the pile of construction materials before Raphael could get a word in edgewise. When he ducked back down his blue eyes were filled with humor. "They're coming." Like a flash he moved before Raph could even catch him, slipping from one pile of sheet metal on palettes over behind a second stack of concrete blocks.

The elder brother bristled slightly, trying to keep an eye on the oncoming armed guards and his youngest brother all at the same time. The men were wary, a thick-necked man bringing up the front and a thinner, lanky one taking the rear. They both held their tranq-rifles at ready, glowering at the scattered piles of building supplies. "You think they could have picked a cleaner site?" thick-neck grumbled.

His companion shrugged and started to wander off in the direction Mikey had just gone. "We weren't supposed to get any attention."

Thick-Neck stopped where he was, only a foot or so away from the stack Raphael had slunk behind. "Supposed to and do are two different things." He paused and turned away from his lanky companion to check where the rope was sliced in the PVC bundle. Unable to see where his co-worker had gotten off to, Mikey considered it an excellent time for an attack.

The youngest turtle hefted his PVC bo, shuffling backwards so he wouldn't be seen, and slowly moving most of the way around a stack of palettes until he was behind the lanky guard. Swinging the bo downwards, he struck the man in the back of the knees, and then snapped the other end around to connect with the side of the man's head. He dropped, off balance, into the sand. Mikey grinned across the aisle at Raphael and kicked the gun away from the man's hands as he hit the ground. Raph shook his head, pretending to be unimpressed.

The attack had been swift and clean, but Michelangelo wasn't the quietest turtle of the bunch. The PVC made a distinctive slapping sound when it hit the heavy fabric of their jumpsuits, and Thick-Neck heard it. Swinging his gun around, the chunky guard frowned and yelled out "Who's there?!" There was a heavy, sick silence for a few seconds that Raphael used to inch closer. When no one answered, he added in a menacing tone, "I'm warning you."

"Warning who?" Raphael asked in his driest tone, meeting the two knuckles of his fist with the side of the man's face, which made a satisfying crunch. He paused for a split second, waiting for the guard to drop so he could pull him off and out of sight. But stubbornly the guard wavered and stayed on his feet, bringing his rifle up to bare on the hotheaded terrapin. Pulling the trigger he sent two sharp tipped, fletched needles flying towards Raphael's retreating form. He ducked, landing on one knee as the dart made hollow thunks into the wooden framework resting just above his head. A muttered 'Aw, hell…' escaped from his lips as he scrambled to change positions and find a spot that he couldn't be shot at.

The smaller man was struggling to get back on his feet, dazed. Mike snapped his attention from Raphael to the guard and back. Hooking the improvised bo with his foot, he flick-kicked it over towards the other side of the aisle so it rolled near Raph's feet before kneeling down to press the one pressure point he could really remember well. Patting the guard on the head, he whispered "Nighty night…" before turning his attention back to the fight.

Raphael glared at the chunk of PVC at his feet, and then back at the close form of the guard he could see through the slits of the stacked metal. "I'm being punished, aren't I?" He asked no one in particular and tensed as he watched the barrel of the gun come into view. Taking in a breath the red clad turtle crouched, picking up the pipe and drawing one end tightly into his side.

"Where are you?" Thick-Neck crowed, his voice both blurry and goading. He didn't expect to get a reply, so when he hard a voice return his question he jerked towards the sound.

"Down here." Raphael said, evenly, launching himself upwards as he spoke. Swinging the chunk of plastic around, he smashed the top of the gun down into the ground before the chunky guard had the chance to pull the trigger. "Now stay down." He added, coming down with a punch directly into the man's face. This time after the short pause the guard simply crumpled. Raphael gave a short huff and tossed the PVC to the side, starting to drag the man under cover.

"I told you it would work!" Mike was practically bouncing over to his brother.

"I know, and I'm never going to live it down." Raph replied, rolling his eyes. Depositing the guard he reached down and picked up the rifle he was carrying.

"What are you going to do with that?" Mikey asked, tipping his head to one side.

"I figure Donnie will want to find out how it ticks; and in the meantime I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth" He shouldered the weapon and started picking his way back towards the van.

Behind him Michelangelo pondered this for a second. "Gift horse…" he murmured, and ran to pick up his chunk of PVC before catching up with Raphael, grinning.

xXx

Donatello was heartily frowning at the computer screen before him. Even without complete access he had found enough information to know that he didn't like what he was reading one bit.

"How is it going?" Leonardo whispered behind him, keeping watch at the back door.

"I want to see if I can break though this last encryption seal." The brainy turtle replied. "I have enough to start with, but if I have the time…"

"I'm not sure if you're going to get it, Don." Leo replied evenly, keeping his eyes fixed on the gutted building. "I think they found the guards we left behind."

Donatello bit his lip, concentrating even harder on pulling every scrap of information he could get from the computer he was working on. "Do we have a way out?"

"Mike found where the manhole we were listening at comes up into the yard. They took out the other two guards, so as long as we get out in enough time we have a clear run to it." Leo replied, his two fingers tapping silently against the hinges of the door.

Donatello took in a short sigh and hit the command for the computer to start burning the information he had sequestered to a disc before he stood up and headed for the front of the cab. The movement was just enough to catch Leo's eye. "Where are you going?" he asked lightly.

"They have a camera in the front of this van. Somehow I think it's prudent to take it and the tape with us." The purple clad turtle gave a small smile as he removed a small box with a digital eye from just above the visor. Near the door Leonardo gave him a satisfied little smile. He had long since come to trust Donatello's ability to catch small details. Don pocketed the camera and it's memory card before heading back to the computer and retrieving his disc. "Alright," he murmured, giving one last look of longing to the computer. He knew he could have gleaned more; but he didn't want to gamble it.

Leo gave a nod and hopped out of the van, creeping around the side until Don joined him. They moved carefully until they reached the supply palettes, listening to the barking of orders from the basement. Once under cover of the supplies both turtles beat the quickest silent exit they could manage over to where Michelangelo was holding the manhole cover open for them. "You get the goods?" the youngest asked cheerily.

"I got enough to start with." Donatello replied, sliding down the ladder, into the cool clammy familiarity of the sewer.

Leo gestured for Mike to go before him, taking one last look to make sure they weren't being followed before he climbed the ladder and closed the manhole behind him. Getting to the bottom he made a quick check to see if he all four brothers were grouped and well. He furrowed his brow, watching Raphael ponder one of the slick rifles the men had carried. "Where did you get that?"

"One of the guards was nice enough to drop it for me." Raph replied with a faintly sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, after you punched him in the face." Mikey added with a grin. Raphael shot him a short glare.

"I figured it might be useful." Raph shrugged and leapt up to start walking down the tunnel.

Leo paused, and not really having any argument with that he started to head down the tunnel as well. Passing Michelangelo he paused. "Mike… why do you have a chunk of PVC pipe?"

The youngest brother smiled serenely. "It's my secret weapon, dude!"


	5. Mother of Invention

**Author's Note**:

This is a digression from the storyline. I wanted to add character stand-alones into the action as it seemed fitting; and since the action came to a nice resting place last chapter for a bit, I wanted to try inserting one of these.

I decided to do this for two reasons: First was because I wanted to explore each character more thoroughly. I have to admit I have an all-out favorite turtle, and a least favorite, one I really like and one I find really difficult to write for. But I want this story to be one that lets all 4 brothers shine equally so I wanted to force myself to write stand alones for each one and slot them in as each character comes to the center of the action. The second reason is mainly because I found it an interesting structure for the piece, with these fun little diversions for each turtle (and their fans). I hope that adding them doesn't make the piece hard to follow.

So without further ado, we'll start with Donnie.

--------

Standalone 1: Donatello: "Mother of Invention"

Timeframe: two or three years prior

"Why?! I don't know why, Donnie! Why the hell do you have to keep asking? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

Donatello was leaning back in his chair far enough that if he wasn't careful the whole thing would topple over leaving him flat on his shell on the floor, and still he could feel Raphael's breath hit his cheeks as he yelled.

"Because I can tell you that the only thing that's wrong with me is the fact that you can't shut up and leave me alone!" Raph hit his open palm against the top of the table to make his point before he stood up and shook his head looking for a way out.

Don sat there, wiggling the back two legs of the chair a little before slowly setting it into an upright position. He rubbed his forehead, and in the wake of silence that followed his hotheaded brother he could hear how loud and uneven his own breath sounded. "Hookay… that didn't go as planned," he murmured to himself. He stood and stretched a little, pacing around the lair until his feet hurt and he decided to slump on the couch for a while. He considered going off into his room and messing with the computer parts he had scavenged, thinking this time he really thought he could make Mike's Atari 7800 work. But despite his unwillingness to get involved with the tensions in the lair he found they had crept under his shell.

For almost a week now everything felt disjointed to him. He expected Raphael to be temperamental; but lately he had been going off on his brothers without apparent reason. Leonardo, too, had been exceptionally tense and he kept spending large amounts of time in solitary practice or meditation. Even Michelangelo seemed distracted; and unlike his usual demeanor of an ADD poster child, this seemed more focused, as if something was nagging at him. _Either I'm the only one out of the loop, or something needs to be fixed_, he thought with his brow creased in frustration.

He stood back up off the couch, restlessly, his feet making their way to Master Splinter's room. He knocked softly on the doorframe, watching his Father as he looked up from reading. "Yes my Son?"

Donatello walked in quietly and knelt. "Father, I'm concerned about my brothers," he started softly. Splinter perked a furred brow and nodded for him to go on. Don cleared his throat a little. "Everyone had been very strange lately. Distracted and tense, Father, and it worries me."

Splinter knit his furred brows slightly. "Yes, my Son. I have seen the agitation among them." After a pause his voice was calm and reassuring. "But I do not think it is anything you need be concerned about, Donatello."

"But what is going on, father?" his voice was imploring.

Master Splinter's face took on the serene neutrality when he was teaching a lesson. "My son, some things are not meant to be told. Your brothers will share with you when they feel comfort in doing so. Feel secure in yourself my Son."

The young turtle frowned a little. Despite how much better he felt knowing that Master Splinter was on top of things, he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to know what was going on. Still he put a small smile on his face as his father came and patted him on the shoulder. "All right, Master Splinter" he conceded, bowing his head.

Splinter watched his Son leave, with a small glimmer in his eyes, wondering just how far curiosity would take the intelligent young turtle.

**xXx**

Late in the evening the sounds of traffic above them had died down from a constant rumbling to a deep humming purr. Similarly the tempers of dinner had calmed to a static tension that hung in the air. Raphael was practicing jump kicks on the bag, seeing if he could kick it hard enough to have the bag hit the back wall, and getting annoyed when he missed and crash-landed into it instead. Leonardo had taken up meditating far away from Raphael, and Michelangelo was slumped on the couch with a little handheld version of pinball. Every time a ball dropped into the dead zone the game would make a taunting little electronic buzz and Mike would find some new way to insult it. Finally he sat up, slapping the game down into the couch cushions. "I think it cheats," he muttered.

Donatello looked up from his book and hid a small smile. "How can it cheat, Mikey? It's a game, it's not playing against you."

The youngest turtle picked up the hunk of plastic and thrust it towards Donatello. "Here you play it for awhile and you'll see what I mean. The levels don't get any more difficult, it just gets harder and harder to make the paddles flip."

Don took the game and turned it over, looking at it. For a second he was struck at how much similarity Mikey's complaint was to his family. As they grew older everything seemed to stay mostly the same, but it was harder and harder to make anyone talk to him. Staring back down at the game he saw that Mike had worn the buttons clean of their paint from constant play. "It might be that the game is getting old."

"Man, don't tell me that…I like that game" he groused lightly, picking it up gently when Don handed it back to him.

"I can take a look at it later if you want." The older turtle offered with a faint smile.

Mike shrugged and tucked the game away in the cushions. "If you want." He replied, apathetically.

Donnie frowned as he watched his younger brother rummage through the kitchen. "Mikey…what's wrong?"

He turned suddenly, a gallon of milk halfway towards his mouth. "I'm not drinking out of the carton! I swear!" He reached awkwardly behind him to grab a cup.

Donatello shook his head. "I'm not talking about the milk, Mike. I'm wondering why you're so…down … and distracted lately.

Michelangelo jerked his head back up, eyes wide as he stared at his brother when he spoke. "I'm not distracted!" he protested, putting on a rather unconvincing smile. He stopped paying attention to the milk as he spoke, and kept pouring it until it spilled over the sides of the cup, onto the floor.

"Mike…Mike!" Don stood, ready to run to the kitchen if he needed to. "The milk, Mikey!"

Mike blinked and realized that the growing puddle was from his pouring and he picked the gallon up, taking it to the table before he scrambled for some towels. Don walked over, taking up a wet rag to help clean. "Not distracted, huh?" the elder asked gently.

Mike worked in surprising silence for over a minute, the corners of his eyes creasing in embarrassment. "Thanks." He said finally. "I guess I'm just tired. I heard Raph and Leo arguing late last night and it just kept me up." Again he gave Don a halfhearted smile before putting the milk soaked rags in the sink and heading off to his room, leaving his older brother standing there, brow creased in worry and confusion.

**xXx**

Two days later, no change in his brother's dispositions yet, but now Donatello had a plan. Sitting up late in the evening he kept fiddling with one of the heat sensors he had left over from setting up the rudimentary security system. Beside him sat the guts of a chair pad massager and several long lengths of wire.

_If Master Splinter won't tell me what is going on, I guess that just means I have to find out for myself_. He mused to himself as he worked. _And since every time I question my brothers they just shut down, I guess I'll have to be a bit more creative about it._ He slipped the heat sensors into the pocket of the chair pad where the heating control usually went, gluing the edges together and zipping it up. Pulling the wires through, he threaded them along the power cord and taped it all together with electrical tape. He spent a few seconds admiring his new invention before he trotted it out into an empty living room, setting the pad on one of the ratty recliners.

In retrospect he didn't know if it had been eagerness, exhaustion, or the extremely large amount of Mountain Dew he had drank, but it sure seemed like a good idea at the time.

**xXx**

The next morning started off serenely enough. The crunching of cereal and milk punctuating a sullen silence, but at least Raphael had stopped glaring at Leonardo from across the table. Donatello was quiet, hoping that he could see if his newest invention would work properly, trying to contain his excitement lest he messed up the readouts.

As soon as Mike finished his bowl he tossed it in the sink and stretched, heading out into the living room. After a few seconds his eyes lit up in glee. "Ooh! A massage pad… these things are SO cool!" Grinning, he practically launched himself into it. "Where did we get one?"

Don looked over and suppressed a smile. "I found one while I was scavenging this week. I finally got it working last night."

"Sweet!" For perhaps the first time in days he gave an honest to goodness grin and switched the power on. The pad made a contented little whirrrr as the massage turned on. Mike leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. "This is the life!"

"It can't be the life for too long, Mikey. We have practice this morning." Leonardo chided. There was a silence that hung in the air as Raphael glared at him across the table. Leo frowned, meeting his brother's glare halfway. "It's a Thursday, Raph. We always have practice."

"Yeah, and I think we all know it, too. You don't have to remind us like we're three." The red-banded turtle countered hotly. Donatello took in a soft sighing breath, hoping that this fight wouldn't get too nasty.

"I'm not trying to insult you!" Leo started, the rest of his comeback cut off by a sharp cry of Michelangelo.

The youngest turtle flung himself out of the recliner like it had just bit him, yelping "Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!" and dancing around the living room. The foul scent of smoke and melting plastic rose up from the chair, and it stopped his brothers' argument in its tracks.

"Mike! Are you OK?" Leo turned, creasing his brow.

"What the hell is wrong with the chair?" Raph asked, walking over towards the recliner and waving a small stream of smoke away. Back at the sink Donatello started to turn very red.

"I turned to heat on, and it started to sauté me!" Mikey whined, rubbing his bottom.

"Raph, can you turn it off? Mike, come over here, let me see if you're burned." Leo commanded, pointing his brothers into action. Donatello dropped the dishrag and caught Michelangelo by the shoulders, trying to calm him down.

"Damn, that's hot!" Raphael had picked up the control box and dropped it immediately afterwards, shaking his hand.

"Unplug it from the wall." Donatello replied mechanically, trying to check his wriggling brother's backside.

"Is he alright?" Leonardo asked, leaning down beside Don.

The brainy turtle gave a nod. "Just some minor first degree burns. His sunburn last year was worse. Hold on, Mikey, I'll get some cream for that." He stood and headed off for the bathroom.

"Great, I got a burn on my bottom." The youngest groused lightly.

Leo grinned at him, patting his shoulder reassuringly. "Well it should keep you off your bum for a couple of days." Mikey gave a short huff and an expression of 'that's not funny.'

"Hey, bro… check this out…" Raphael called from the corner of the room where the outlet was. In his hand was the chair pad massager cord and he held up another, smaller wire that was taped to it, leading of into Donatello's lab.

"What is that?" the eldest asked, walking over to inspect.

"I dunno. Want to play follow the wire?" the younger turtle grinned slightly. Leo nodded fractionally.

"Can I come too?" Michelangelo asked, eyes widening.

"No, Mikey, stay here and let Donnie put medicine on your back." Leo's command was met by a heavy pout from the youngest brother. He gave Mike a sympathetic smile and then gestured for Raph to lead on.

When Donatello came back, he was carrying a jarful of some of the ointment their father used to rub on burns and cuts when they were children. Mikey wrinkled his nose at the smell, and the memories that came with it. "Hold still, Mike." His elder brother chided.

"I can't. It itches." The younger turtle complained, stretching to scratch where the ointment was rubbed in.

"You're just going to have to leave it alone for a little while. The itch will go away once the salve dries." He paused, looking around the lair and reaching in the couch to bring out the pinball game. "Here, play this for awhile."

For the next few minutes the living room was blissfully quiet, filled only with the tinny sounds of the game. When Donatello finished rubbing a second layer of salve into the burned areas he capped the jar. "Where are Leo and Raph?" he asked, casually.

Mike turned and shrugged, stuffing the game back into the couch. "They went to follow some wire they found in the chair pad."

It took a second, but very slowly Donatello's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "They…what?"

"We decided to check out your experiment." It was Raphael's voice. When Don turned he saw that his brother still held the sensor wire in his hands.

"Don, what exactly were you doing with this contraption?" Leo asked, stepping forward, his brows creased in confusion.

Donatello stared at the floor for what seemed like forever, but when he looked up, his brothers were still watching him. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I wasn't trying to hurt anybody. I put a heat sensor in the pad… but I forgot to disconnect the heating element."

There was a long few seconds of utter confusion before Leo scratched his head and caught Donnie's gaze. "Why did you want a heat sensor in a chair pad?"

"I had it hooked up to the same computer as our security system. It was recording body heat output." The young inventor's words were so mumbled that they were hard to make out.

"Donnie…" Raph looked at him pointedly. For a second Donatello braced himself for a fight, but instead his hotheaded brother smirked. "Why on Earth did you want heat sensor readings of Mikey's butt?"

"I…uhh…" Don bit his bottom lip as his brothers started to snicker.

"This isn't some weird science geek fetish, is it?" Mike asked, innocently, not really understanding all the implications of the word 'fetish'

Donatello blinked, his eyes going wide with embarrassment. "No!" he protested, which only prompted the snickers to turn into full-blown laughter. Don shook his head, turned and left for his lab without a word.

The two younger brothers wiped the tears from their eyes as Leonardo sobered himself. "Raph, why don't you and Mikey start on a jog? Not too hard with Mikey's burn."

The red clad turtle nodded, and tapped his younger brother on the shoulder. "C'mon." and the two started out of the lair and down the sewer tunnel, leaving Leo standing in the living room alone, staring at Don's closed bedroom door.

Taking in a deep breath the eldest brother walked very quietly up and knocked on the doorframe. "Don, you ok?" He didn't get an answer

Inside the room, Donatello was making an effort to be engrossed with the pattern of bricks on the wall. _Maybe if I rewired the control box it would work better_? He sighed a little. _Or Maybe if I found some new parts I could get it to give a good readout? I think I have a printer somewhere_. Slowly he pressed the palms of his hands into the hollows where his bandana rested. _Maybe if I sit here long enough they will all go away_? The only good that had come of this little fiasco was that his brothers weren't fighting with each other anymore; now they were all laughing at him.

"Don, can I come in?" Leo's voice came through the door again, and this time Don actually looked towards it.

"Leo, I'd really rather not talk right now. I'll take my punishment this evening and do my workout then" he replied, evenly.

Outside the door Leo furrowed his brow, stubbornly. He was about to walk away when he has the whim to check the doorknob. Unlike Raph, Don didn't usually lock his door and he didn't think to lock it this time either. Leo poked his head inside. "Are you OK, Don?"

Don looked up, and nearly jumped out of his shell. He opened his mouth to protest, but something about the calm, worried look in his older brother's eyes made him stop. Leo walked slowly inside and took a seat on the bed. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." The younger turtle replied stubbornly.

Blinking slightly, Leo leaned forward. "If it's nothing then why are you acting so strange?" he asked softly.

"Me acting strange?" Donatello raised his head, his voice sounding a little incredulous. "Leo, all this week I think I have been the only one not acting strange. You've been crabby, Mike has been depressed and being around Raph is like walking on hot coals – even more so than usual. And I can't figure out what's wrong!" He waved his hands in exasperation before he decided to sit on them.

Leo sat very still for a few seconds, absorbing it all. When he spoke his voice was quiet. "Don, why didn't you ask us?"

His younger brother formed his mouth into a thin, hard line. "I did, Leo. How many times did I ask you guys what was going on?" The question seemed to catch his brother by surprised and as the blue clad turtle though about it, the look of realization dawned in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Donnie." He murmured.

"Why didn't you answer me when I asked?" the younger pressed, his brows creasing in frustration.

Leonardo took a good long time to think about that before he spoke. "Don, sometimes when you ask you…nag. And I don't mean that you tell us what to do, but you pick at something over and over again. The problem is that you can pick apart a machine to see how it works and then put it back together again. But if you pick at a person they usually just shut you out."

Don sat there with his mouth very slightly open. He could feel heat creeping up his throat and into his cheeks. "I was curious. Curious and worried about you guys."

"So you invented something you thought would tell you what we were thinking." Leo guessed. As Don nodded the pieces started falling together. "Why did you use heat sensors?"

"Leo, it's a scientific theory that body heat output can be linked to emotion reactions." Don chided before he sank back into his quiet tone. "I thought if I could get readouts I could compare observations to the data and maybe figure out what was going on with you guys."

Leo gave his brother a soft smile. "Next time can I suggest just observing and listening?"

Don gave a lopsided smile. "Sure." There was an awkward pause and he added, "So what is going on?"

His older brother sighed a little. "I was going to wait until Master Splinter decided to tell everyone; but I guess now everyone knows except for you." He settled his hands on his knees. "In a week or so Master Splinter is taking a trip to the countryside, and I'm going with him. It's for some sort of special training for a few days. He wanted to be the one to tell everyone so he could explain everything correctly."

Donatello nodded, and suddenly the little pieces he had seen started to fall into place. "But Mikey overheard, didn't he?"

"Yeah. And he accidentally let is slip to Raph."

"And Raph overreacted." Don finished.

"That's pretty much it." Leo nodded.

Slowly a smile formed on his younger brother's face. "And here I thought there was this terrible secret being kept from me."

His brother chuckled a little bit and stood up. "No." He started to head out for practice but turned as he reached the doorway. "Coming?"

Don stood, giving a small, embarrassed smile. "Yeah."

A tinge of fond humor showed in Leo's eyes. "Promise me something before we go?"

"Sure, Leo?"

"You won't make any more secret brother-sensor inventions unless we all agree we need them." He held out his hand to shake on it.

Donatello paused for a long second and then took Leo's hand and shook. "Deal."

---

**Author's Ruminations**: This piece was very difficult for me to write, and I don't know why. I found it very hard to find a good voice for Don. It also turned out to be the longest chapter I have written so far, so here's to hoping it reads well.


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